


Please, Don’t Leave

by isthatbloodonhisshirt (wasterella)



Series: Spreading Positivity 2020 [3]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Alpha Derek, Derek Hale Deserves Nice Things, Don’t copy to another site, Established Relationship, M/M, Meeting the Parents, Sheriff Stilinski Finds Out About Derek/Stiles Relationship, Stiles Stilinski is a Nice Thing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-20
Updated: 2020-03-20
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:55:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23222860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wasterella/pseuds/isthatbloodonhisshirt
Summary: “He’s gonna kill me,” Derek said, making no move to open his door. “He has wolfsbane bullets, and he’s a police officer, he knows where all the good burial sites are.”“Trust me, if he killed you, he definitely wouldn’t bury you. He knows better. Acid all the way.”Derek turned to raise both eyebrows at Stiles, who stared back at him for a second, then seemed to realize what he’d said.“Right. Not helping. Um... he made steak? If he was going to kill you, he wouldn’t have spent money on prime rib.”
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Series: Spreading Positivity 2020 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1667605
Comments: 42
Kudos: 1589





	Please, Don’t Leave

Derek sat behind the wheel of the Camaro, staring up at the house in front of him and trying not to drum his hands nervously on the steering wheel. That wasn’t something he normally did, but he’d been spending a lot of time with Stiles, who drummed on literally _everything_ , and it was one of those weird habits he’d accidentally picked up without meaning to.

The house was dark, and foreboding, and promised him a slow, agonizing death. It threatened harm, and oozed malice, and he was positive if he walked in there, he was not going to walk back out. 

But he was an Alpha Werewolf, dammit! He was _not_ going to be bested by something as ridiculous as-as _this_! He had his pride, after all. He wasn’t going to let some stupid house make his Betas talk about him behind his back.

If _Scott_ could walk into this house without any problems, then so could Derek. Scott was the weakest of all his Betas, so really, this would be cake for Derek. He could do this, no big deal. 

No big deal at all. 

“Are you gonna come in, or sit staring angrily at my house all night?” Stiles asked from right beside him, having appeared silently at Derek’s driver’s side window.

He tensed to avoid jumping, not having realized Stiles had approached him, but that only proved how terrifying this entire thing was. 

After all, sure Scott had survived coming and going from this place for years, but Scott also hadn’t ever gotten caught by the sheriff while half-naked with Stiles trying to suck his soul out of his dick. 

At least, not that he knew of, and if he _had_ , Derek and Scott were going to need to have some words because Derek had already made it explicitly clear Stiles was his. Wolves liked to mark their territory and if the sheriff hadn’t caught them in that uncomfortable position, the plethora of hickeys constantly appearing on Stiles’ neck and collarbone probably would’ve clued him in to the fact that Stiles wasn’t exactly single anymore. 

But— _fuck_! Of all the ways for Stiles to finally tell his dad who his boyfriend was, did it _have_ to be while he had said boyfriend’s dick halfway down his throat?! 

The sound the sheriff had made wasn’t human. Derek knew a lot of sounds, he’d heard many things with his enhanced hearing. The sound that had escaped the sheriff’s throat wasn’t like anything he’d ever heard before, and _certainly_ shouldn’t have been something capable of escaping a human’s mouth. 

“He’s gonna kill me,” Derek said, making no move to open his door. “He has wolfsbane bullets, and he’s a police officer, he knows where all the good burial sites are.” 

“Trust me, if he killed you, he definitely wouldn’t bury you. He knows better. Acid all the way.” 

Derek turned to raise both eyebrows at Stiles, who stared back at him for a second, then seemed to realize what he’d said. 

“Right. Not helping. Um... he made steak? If he was going to kill you, he wouldn’t have spent money on prime rib.” 

“More for him,” Derek grumbled, but he managed to get his hands to unclench from around the wheel and he pushed the door open, Stiles backing up a few steps to let him out. Once he’d slammed the door and turned, Stiles grinned and jumped at him. He didn’t _quite_ take his feet off the ground, but it was a near thing. 

Throwing his arms around Derek’s neck, he gave him a rather wet and sloppy kiss, likely trying to be obnoxious as opposed to actually _wanting_ to kiss him. Derek just shoved him off, one hand in Stiles’ face. That just earned him a damp palm when Stiles licked a stripe up from his wrist to the tip of his middle finger. 

“You’re impossible.” 

“Stop being such a coward,” Stiles countered, grabbing at the same hand he’d just licked and tugging Derek towards the porch, climbing them two at a time. Derek had no choice but to follow.

Not like he could break free from this grip. Not like he wasn’t ten times stronger than both occupants of the house combined. Not like he wasn’t seriously considering racing back to the Camaro and getting the fuck out of there before he got a bullet to the brain. 

The door opened and Stiles tugged him inside, shutting it behind him with a sense of finality. 

Well, if this was where Derek died, at least he had fond memories. The living room on his left, where he and Stiles had first kissed. The stairs on his right, where Stiles had gotten rugburn on his ass from the two of them not making it to the bedroom before ‘activities’ started. 

And oh, the bedroom. With the bed. And the desk. And the many, _many_ surfaces. They really hadn’t left a single surface untouched in all the months they’d been dating. 

There was also the sheriff’s armchair which—now that he thought about it, was probably something he should avoid bringing up. That hadn’t been his fault! He’d sat in it just to see how comfortable it was one day while Stiles was grabbing the snacks, and when he’d come back out, he’d whined about Derek trying to keep some space between them and had promptly sat down in his lap. One thing had led to another, and well... 

Maybe he should buy the sheriff a new armchair. That... that seemed like the only solution, at this point. He was pretty sure he’d never be able to look at it again without remembering the way Stiles’ head had been thrown back while riding him and Jesus _Christ_ , now was not the time to be thinking about that! 

“Look who I found lurking in our driveway,” Stiles proclaimed, dragging Derek into the kitchen by the hand he still held. “Better than back when he used to lurk outside the high school like a creeperwolf.” 

“I was keeping an eye on Scott,” Derek insisted, though he didn’t know why he bothered. Both men in the kitchen with him were well aware of why he’d been lingering outside the high school all those years ago. 

“Derek,” the sheriff said, stirring something at the stove without looking over at him. “Glad you could make it.” 

Derek wondered if all the sheriff could see when he blinked was his son between Derek’s legs. 

He felt like the only thing _he_ could see when he blinked was the sheriff’s horrified expression. 

This was going to be a _long_ night.

“Stiles, why don’t you go check on the steaks?” the sheriff asked. “I’m sure Derek likes his meat raw.” 

There was no way Derek was the only one who took that in a dirty way, because the sheriff’s hand froze for a fraction of a second, as if realizing what he’d just said—and probably picturing _again_ what his son looked like between Derek’s legs, _fuck_!—and Stiles let out a loud, awkward laugh. 

Too loud, and very awkward. 

“Sure thing pops.” 

Stiles started to let go of Derek’s hand so he could do just that, but the Werewolf held on and turned to him, giving him a silent look. 

“Please,” he hissed under his breath, “don’t leave.” 

“Don’t worry, his gun’s in the safe. I checked.” Stiles winked and pulled free, moving to the back door and disappearing through it to check the barbecue.

Derek had barely turned back to the sheriff when the man was on him, having moved so quickly that Derek’s wolf instinctively took over, eyes flashing and gums itching with the need to wolf out. He managed to hold it back, but only just. 

“Let’s get something straight in this very limited time we have,” the sheriff said, expression distressingly neutral. “You hurt him, you push him into something he doesn’t want to do, or you drag him into _any_ of your dangerous Werewolf crap without his consent, and it’s not just the wolfsbane bullets you’ll need to worry about. I play golf with Chris Argent twice a week, don’t test me.” 

Derek had no idea what to say. He’d never thought he’d ever be so scared of a _human_ before in his life, especially not one who wasn’t a Hunter. 

They stared at one another for a long while before the sheriff’s expression softened and a smile broke out across his face. A small chuckle escaped him and Derek felt his entire body relax at the sound, the older man shaking his head before slapping Derek lightly in the arm. 

“I’m just kidding, Derek. While I’d have preferred to meet Stiles’ boyfriend under uh, _different_ circumstances than the one I walked in on—” Seriously, could the ground just swallow him whole right now?— “I’m glad it’s you. He’s been gone for you for a long time, and you’re a good man. I know you’ll treat him right.” 

“Thank you, sir,” Derek said, feeling a weight lift off him. “I won’t let you down.” 

“I know.” The sheriff slapped him in the arm again before heading back to the stove. “Oh, and just so we’re clear, you break his heart, I know how to get my hands on a lot of acid.” 

Derek pressed his lips together and nodded once. The sheriff nodded back, smiled again, then turned to the stove just in time for Stiles to come back inside, brandishing a plate of steaks. 

“Dinner awaits!” he proclaimed. “Let’s eat.” 

“Derek, make yourself useful and set the table,” the sheriff ordered. 

Moving to the cabinet to grab some plates, Derek felt the remaining tension ease away when he glanced at the sheriff, and saw that he was smiling. 

Maybe not the most terrifying thing he’d ever experienced in his life. 

Still up there though. Stilinskis were terrifying. 

Apparently that didn’t diminish with age. Stiles was going to be a force to be reckoned with even more than he already was if he grew up to be _anything_ like his father. 

**END.**

**Author's Note:**

> Teen Wolf (c) Jeff Davis
> 
> Come chill with me on [Tumblr](https://isthatbloodonhisshirt.tumblr.com/).


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